


Love is a Dangerous Game

by Graceful_Storyteller



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia, Discussion of Abortion, Enemies to Lovers, Mech Preg (Transformers), Multi, Romance, Romance Bingo, Romantic Comedy, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:48:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25379404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graceful_Storyteller/pseuds/Graceful_Storyteller
Summary: Using the Romance Bingo card to experiment with rarepairs and old faves. Mostly Starscream and Soundwave.Let's start with a SkyLock fusion-cannon wedding.
Relationships: Bumblebee/Starscream/Windblade (Transformers), Drift | Deadlock/Skywarp, Jazz/Soundwave (Transformers), Jazz/Soundwave/Starscream, Jazz/Starscream (Transformers)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	1. Skywarp/Deadlock (T) - Scandal-Induced Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out that Megatron – infamous warlord and scourge of the galaxy – has strong family values.

“This is your fault,” Skywarp hissed.

“My fault?” Deadlock hissed back, fury mixing with incredulity.

“Yeah. Do you know how many Decepticons I've fragged over the vorn? Hundreds – probably even _thousands_ – and not one of them ever got sparked.” His lip-plate curled as he added, “Except for you.”

“In that case I'm surprised your equipment was still functional enough to activate let alone spark anyone.”

“Why you-Ow! Starscream!”

“Shut up you idiot. Do you want Megatron to terminate you?”

“I didn't know you cared,” Skywarp groused as he rubbed his helm where Starscream had smacked him.

Starscream sniffed. “I don't. I'm just making sure our _glorious leader_ doesn't have another _ingenious_ idea and make me take your place as caretaker of the pit-spawn after he deactivates you.”

Deadlock felt his plating rust at the thought. “I would rather deactivate than Conjunx you.”

The smile Starscream gifted him was all malice. “Then learn to get along with your pit-spawn's sire before Megatron starts looking for someone else for you to play happy families with.” He glanced towards the entryway and muttered, “Speaking of sentimental old fools.”

Megatron paused, watching Starscream suspiciously.

Starscream stepped back with a simpering smile. “They're ready to start the ceremony Lord Megatron.”

“Good,” Megatron intoned as he moved to stand before them. “Then we should begin.”

Deadlock shared a glance with Skywarp. He was not the mech he'd envisioned pledging his spark to. He was supposed to be a one time post-battle frag; a rough romp in the battleship's hanger while he waited for the solvent in the washracks to reheat. He was never supposed to get sparked or, worse, get caught sparked by the ship's medic. It had taken both of them by surprise and the resultant shouting and violence against medical equipment had reached Megatron through the rumour mill in no time at all. If he'd known this would be the result of confessing the designation of the sparkling's sire Deadlock would have lied and given the name of one of his deactivated comrades. It's impossible to know how Megatron would have ensured the newspark grew up in a 'stable environment' under such circumstances, but Deadlock imagined he would have had more say in the matter than in this fusion cannon Conjunxing ceremony.

With a defeated ex-vent Skywarp turned towards him and took Deadlocks' hands in his own. He squeezed gently, his optics softening as he stared at Deadlock's chestplate. At the location of their gestating sparkling.

Deadlock felt something in him soften too. At least Skywarp was loyal. Once he'd given an oath to love and protect them he would honour it with every connection of his being. He would not abandon them. He would make sure their sparkling grew up to be a strong, dedicated Decepticon warrior. He would be a good sire. And maybe, with time, he would also be a loving Conjunx. Deadlock could only hope.


	2. Jazz/Starscream (E) - First-Time Orgasm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bigger isn't always better.

It wasn't the first time Starscream had been propositioned in a seedy bar. It also wasn't the first time he'd been consumed by the emotional cocktail of lust, despondency, frustration, masochism, and recklessness which usually led to him allowing mechs far beneath his station to drag him off into back alleys and storage closets for what usually ended up being a disappointing frag. Even when the mech wasn't all talk and they actually had a spike worth seeing, Starscream never walked away from the encounter satisfied. Which was infuriating, because every one of Thundercracker's ridiculous vid dramas had led him to believe that when your high-class suitors failed to deliver the goods a Seeker could always turn to a charming scoundrel to relieve them of their charge. So that was what Starscream had gone looking for – a bit of rough who wasn't too concerned with scraping their paint to frag him properly. He'd started visiting the bars where the city's labourers, transport shuttles, and military mechs frequented. Once there it didn't take much to make a connection. Although most mechs watched him with suspicious, hostile optics there was always one who needed to prove something or had a secret desire to stick it to the rich in a very particular way. And Starscream let them. He let them shove him against a wall, let them grope his wings and aft with their filthy digits, let them whisper the most degrading filth in his audio as they fragged him. The perverse part of him enjoyed it as much as the well-bred Seeker hated it. He still wasn't satisfied though.

Then he'd made the mistake of listening to Skywarp. The living embodiment of shameless shareware - Skywarp swore that the bigger the spike the more fun you were likely to have. So Starscream had started to become more discerning during his hunts. He'd only allowed mechs taller and wider to frag him, and he could admit that Skywarp had a point. There was something wonderful about a spike which filled you up until you swore you were about to split in two. Still, as exciting as it was to have your partner support your weight with just one hand, something was missing. Fluid would fill his valve, send his charge sky-rocketing, and he'd gasp expectantly – waiting for the final crescendo of pleasure. It never came. His partner would pull out, admire their work, and leave. No matter how desperately Starscream chased his own happy ending it never came. He'd leave more frustrated than he arrived, only now aching and dripping fluids. He'd swear off seedy bars and useless low-caste imbeciles and try again to find a Seeker worth his time. When all that did was turn him into an emotional mess with an unsatisfied valve he'd find himself back inside a bar of mechs who only wanted him for his frame. At least they were honest about it.

Which led him back to the present and the shoddy sports car attempting to coax him into the back room. Starscream glanced around, wondering if he had any better options. It didn't look promising.

“Don't be like that mech,” the little grounder said with a grin that shined brighter than his dirty paint job. “I know how to make my partners go crazy. Size isn't everything, you can trust me on that.”

Starscream was exhausted and frustrated and certain he wasn't going to get any other offers. A disappointing performance was better than nothing.

“Fine,” he huffed. “Let's get this over with.”

…

Starscream gasped and dug his claws into the desk beneath him. Pleasure radiated out from his valve in intoxicating waves as the grounder used a mixture of digits and his own intake to absolutely _wreck_ Starscream's valve.

“How...How are you doing that?” Starscream hissed, fighting the temptation to lock his thighs around the sports car's helm and crush it in his pursuit for _more._

“Doing what?” he asked in the most infuriatingly casual tone.

“I don't know!” Starscream howled. “That!”

He chuckled. Chuckled! “Never been eaten out before have you?”

“Of course not! No sane mech would waste time they could be spending getting their spike wet!”

The sports car paused. “Doesn't sound like you've been with a lot of mechs interested in treating you right.”

“What does that mean?” Starscream asked as he wiggled his hips impatiently.

The grounder shrugged as his slick digits returned to tormenting Starscream's external node. “Just that it sounds like most mechs you've been with weren't all that interested in foreplay. Makes me wonder if you've ever had a really good overload if your partners were more interested in getting their spikes wet than exploring your frame. Finding out what will make you fizzle versus what will make you explode.”

“What are you talking about?” Starscream demanded as frustration warred with horror.

The grounder stared at him and Starscream felt the optics behind the visor drill straight into his spark.

“Okay Sweetspark, this is what we're going to do,” he said at last. “I'm going to eat you out until you overload. Then I'm going to find every sensor the rusted bolts before me failed to find and give you a second overload from those alone. Finally, if you're still functioning, I'm going to spike you until we hit overload number three. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like talk. I'll believe you can do it when I see it.”

The grounder grinned. “I do love a challenge. The name's Jazz by the way. Feel free to scream it as loud as you like.”

Starscream scoffed, but then Jazz's intake was back on his valve as his digits dived deeper than ever. Starscream's optics offlined as his charge built and built until he felt like he was teetering on the edge of his personal balcony. This was usually when his partners finished and left him to stumble back from the edge like a fool. Instead, for the first time in his functioning, he fell over the edge as bliss rocketed through his systems and his valve convulsed in unfamiliar pulses.

When his optics finally reset he found Jazz still licking languidly at the slick folds of his valve. The mech's visor gleamed with something like pride as he asked lightly, “So, how did I do?”

Starscream's vocaliser spit static when he tried to speak. That just caused Jazz's smugness to grow.

“That good huh? In that case you'll probably need a few klicks to rest up before I do it to you all over again.”

Starscream contemplated that for a moment. He then vowed that, no matter what, he was never letting any mech but Jazz near his valve ever again.


	3. Starscream/Windblade/Bumblebee (T) - Amnesia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Starscream's memory files are deleted by a malicious virus Windblade and Bumblebee take it upon themselves to reintroduce him to the world. Turns out Starscream without a few million years of baggage and trauma is a much more pleasant Starscream.

“He seems happy,” Bumblebee muses as he watches Starscream stride with intent from store front to store front. According to the Seeker rediscovering the world and trying to recover old memory files involved a lot of shopping. Luckily the old Starscream had saved up enough Shanix to support the new one's habit.

“He does, doesn't he,” Windblade agrees, a soft smile playing on her lip-plates as she watches the Seeker genuinely react to his surroundings without scheming.

“It almost feels cruel that we're trying to make him remember his past.”

Windblade pauses. “What are you saying?”

Bumblebee doesn't meet her optics. “I just think Starscream deserves a fresh start. A chance to be the best he can be.”

Windblade cocks an optic ridge sceptically. “Just because he's forgotten what he's done doesn't mean everyone else has. There are plenty of bots out there who will want revenge.” She ex-vents heavily. “The old Starscream might not have agreed all the hatred directed his way was justified, but at least he knew why bots regularly threatened to shoot him. This new one doesn't. He only has second hand accounts of all the enemies he's made. It makes him an easy target for anyone interested in getting 'justice'.”

“I know.”

“And that's just the violent ones. Most everyone else might not be actively aggressive but they're all worried the old Starscream is still in there and he'll fall back on old programming the second he has to make a tough decision. That's not a fresh start; there's still going to be a mountain of prejudice for him to overcome.”

“I _know_ ,” Bumblebee says irritably before ex-venting. “I know everyone thinks he hasn't changed. That Starscream always has been and always will be a scheming sociopath. But we both know that isn't him. He's a good bot deep down. One who didn't have a good start in life and made a lot of bad choices over the next few million years. But this time I know he won't make the same choices. This time he'll show everyone he's good. This time things are going to be different.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Bumblebee smiles as he takes her hand. “Because this time he'll have us.”

Windblade stares down at their joined hands. Once she gets over her surprise she smiles back. “Yes, he will.”

“What is taking so long!” Starscream demands from halfway down the street and nearly out of sight.

“We're coming! Hold your horses!” Bumblebee shouts back, grinning widely.

Still holding hands they hurry to catch up with their impatient third.


	4. Starscream/Soundwave/Jazz (T) - Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only reason Starscream hasn't killed Jazz for stranding them on this miserable rock is that he'll be a good bargaining chip when the Autobots rescue them. Also because he gives processor-melting overloads.

They'd received Jazz's distress call almost a week after his botched mission had hit Autobot headlines: _Battle of the Spies Ends with Both Jazz and Soundwave Missing In Action._ Not the snappiest of clickbait, but it had turned plenty of helms. Jazz was a good mech and there had been a rush of volunteers to search for him.

It hadn't taken long for them to discover the remains of the craft he'd infiltrated, along with its crew. None of the deactivated frames resembled Jazz; there was a good chance he'd escaped in one of the missing escape pods. The only problem was that Soundwave also wasn't listed among the deceased and so there was an equally likely possibility that he'd made an escape with a captured Jazz and was at that moment torturing him for Autobot secrets deep in a Decepticon stronghold.

Not that there were many Decepticon strongholds in the quadrant. There wasn't much of anything in that region of space. Which was why most of it had been quickly cleared and the less optimistic Autobots had started to assume the worst.

That was when a nearby solar storm had fizzled out and more long-distanced communications had started to make their way through.

_Crashed at coordinates XX-YY-ZZ. Pod trashed. Require extraction. Starscream and Soundwave injured but armed. Truce._

Not the most reassuring of messages. Still, it was enough to scramble a rescue team and head for the sent coordinates. Ratchet had bullied his way onto the team, citing that if there were injured parties having a medic aboard would go a long way to diffusing a potentially volatile situation. And if it was a trap? Well, then it was even more important to have someone there to patch everyone up.

Jazz's coordinates led them to a barren rock orbiting a distant yellow dwarf star. As soon as they landed they picked up an Autobot distress beacon and followed it down into a valley where a makeshift shelter had been constructed from the natural rock face and the remains of the escape pod. At the sound of their approach a blaster appeared around the edge of the shelter.

“Jazz? Is that you?” Ratchet shouted from where he'd been relegated to the back of the group.

The blaster disappeared as Jazz's distinctive drawl said, “Aw, Ratch', am I glad to hear that grumpy bark of yours.”

Slowly the saboteur stepped into view, blaster held up and away from his frame.

“Are there Decepticons here?” demanded the designated team leader.

“Two. Starscream's leg is in a bad way. Sounders and I did some field repairs but I'd feel better if Ratchet took a look before we make him walk on it.”

Ratchet started to move forward but was restrained by a hand on his shoulder. “What makes you think we're going to rescue that scum?”

“Because they're targets with high value intelligence? Seriously mech there's a reason we take prisoners, and it isn't because the brig is empty without them.” Jazz's gaze slid easily to Ratchet. “Plus the doc has never been one to leave behind a patient he could save and I'm pretty sure he outranks all of you.”

“That's right,” Ratchet growled. “Now move aside.” He headed for Jazz first and gave him a critical once over.

“Scrapes and bumps self-repair will heal when I've got some good energon in me,” he reassured.

Ratchet's gaze halted on scrapes around Jazz's hips and the inside of his thighs which in his long and esteemed medical career he'd never once attributed to a crash landing or battle damage.

Jazz grinned. “It gets real cold when it gets dark. There are worse things than huddling with Decepticons for warmth.”

“Is that your excuse?” Ratchet dead-panned.

Jazz continued to grin. “Also kept the trigger-happy and easily bored Decepticons calm until help arrived.”

“Not to mention the easily bored and trigger-happy Autobot.”

Jazz just laughed.


	5. Jazz/Soundwave (T) - Secret Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jazz walked into his Medbay this was the last thing Ratchet was expecting.

It was quiet in the Medbay as Ratchet made his final round before turning in for the night. His solitary patient was deep in recharge and unlikely to wake before Ratchet returned to his duties. He was just about to reduce the lights to their lowest setting when he sensed something amiss. A shadow that certainly didn't belong in his Medbay.

“Jazz?”

To Ratchet's relief the shadow unfurled to reveal the Autobot's chief saboteur, not a Decepticon assassin. Ratchet placed his fists on his hips as he aimed a glare at the silent miscreant.

“Are you trying to give me spark failure?! What are you doing sneaking around like that?”

Jazz smiled and something about that smile made Ratchet uneasy. “Sorry I spooked ya Ratch'. Was still making my mind up if I was here to have a real medic do my check up or just to borrow your equipment.”

“You're outside clinic hours.”

“I know.”

His unease clicked up another notch at how eerily subdued Jazz was acting. “You better be dying,” Ratchet threatened as he strode over to an exam table. Jazz followed, as silent as Ratchet's own shadow. The medic cast a critical optic over the saboteur as he easily jumped onto the table and made himself comfortable. “Is there anywhere I should start this 'check up'?”

Jazz's chestplates parted to reveal his spark and unease immediately shifted to fear. Ratchet grabbed his scanner and started a search for any irregularities in sparkpulse, shifts in spark frequency, any damage to the outer casing. The scanner immediately pinged him with one very obvious abnormality.

“You're sparked.”

That blasted subdued smile didn't flicker in the face of Ratchet's shock and minor horror. A horror which at any moment was likely to morph into apoplectic rage at the truly irresponsible behaviour which led to a newspark being dragged into a fragging war!

“Yeah. That threw me for a loop too. Haven't made that sort of miscalculation in a long time.”

The word choice made Ratchet pause.

“Whose sparkling is it Jazz?”

Jazz chose to look down at his spark rather than at Ratchet as he answered. “Soundwave's.”

Ratchet wasn't sure what the proper response to that was. Luckily, Jazz decided to elaborate and give him time to process.

“Prowl and I put together an op awhile ago. I was supposed to honeytrap him – lure him in, get his guard down, make him question why he followed a mech a stone's throw away from insanity. Soundwave knew what I was doing of course. He countered by saying I didn't belong with the Autobots. Pointed out someone as ruthless as me belonged with the Decepticons carving out an empire for those willing to do what's necessary instead of hiding weakness behind notions of morality.” Jazz laughed and it in no way resembled the joyful sound Ratchet was use to hearing. “That's a simplified version of our encounters, obviously, I wouldn't want to bore you with all the gory details Ratch'. Point is that Prowl said to do whatever it takes and I was fully onboard with that. Except I don't think this is what he meant. I certainly didn't _plan_ on getting sparked. I thought about it. I thought _a lot_ about how attached Soundwave is to his little brood and decided that if I dangled a sparkling in front of him he'd come running. Probably. Maybe.” His smile flickered for the briefest of instances. “Soundwave's all about loyalty. I couldn't be sure if forced to make the choice loyalty to his sparkling would outweigh his loyalty to Megatron. So I shelved that plan. No point dragging another innocent spark into this war unless I was certain. Apparently my reproductive programming didn't get the memo. So the plan's back on the table. Possibly.”

“Possibly?” Ratchet echoed softly.

Jazz's visor dimmed and his smile disappeared entirely. “What if he chose Megatron? How would I explain that to the bitlet? That i was less important than a megalomaniac? I'm just...I'm a little thrown here Ratch'. Could really use a bossy old medic to tell me what to do.”

Ratchet gently closed Jazz's chestplates without rising to the obvious bait. “Rest. Take some time to let it sink in. You have the time to make a decision.” Jazz's gaze shifted to him and Ratchet confirmed, “This is your decision to make kid. I'm not going to do anything but support whatever you decide. And offer this bit of advice.” He placed his hand on Jazz's shoulder. “It's okay to admit this isn't just about the sparkling. That you got a little too close to the enemy. I'm one of the last Bots to judge you for putting everything into the job and ending up more invested than I should be. You're allowed to let that affect your decision on whether or not to keep it. _And_ on whether or not to use your newspark as a bargaining chip.”

“You do sound a tad judgey Ratch'.”

Ratchet ex-vented heavily. “I'm not going to lie – I think having a sparkling in a war zone is highly irresponsible and I will very much make an example of you so the other idiots on base don't get it in their helms to create their own. But once that's done I'll give whatever support you need because if we're going to have a sparkling running round causing chaos it deserves to know that it's loved unconditionally by everyone.”

Somehow Jazz managed a smile that actually looked genuine. “Thanks Ratchet.”

Ratchet returned the smile and gave Jazz's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You can't control what Soundwave does or wants. You got to be selfish and do what's best for you. And I do mean _you_ , not the war effort. If Prowl tries to tell you otherwise direct him to me and I'll soon sort him out.”

“I can handle Prowler,” Jazz replied with some of his usual swagger. “But thanks for the offer.”

He rolled smoothly off the birth and stretched out his joints one by one.

“Going somewhere?” Ratchet asked with an arched optic ridge.

“Going for a drive. Putting these human roads through their paces should help me clear my processor. Help me get in the mood for a little spark-searching.”

“That's not a bad idea. Just make sure you don't push yourself too hard,” Ratchet warned. “Racing won't hurt the newspark but letting your fuel levels fall into the red zone will. I want you at a minimum 50% fuelled until you've made your decision.”

“Will do Ratch',” Jazz answered will a grin and casual salute. “Any other words of wisdom you want to impart before I go?”

Ratchet considered that question seriously for a long moment. “If Soundwave does choose Megatron over you and the newspark then that only goes to show that he's a giant moron and was never worth your time in the first place. You can do so much better Jazz.”

Jazz froze for a long moment. Then he threw his arms around Ratchet in a tight hug. “Thanks Ratch',” he murmured against Ratchet's plating.

“It's only the truth kid,” Ratchet replied gruffly as he wrapped his arms around Jazz's smaller frame. “And you're welcome.”


End file.
